The wife of a powerful family: Huo Shao, how dare you flirt with me - Chapter 2157

“Mr. Lei, rumor has it that you have a crush on me?”

With a cold icy face, the man ignored her question and continued reading his documents. He later decided to explain himself, “I swear to God I want nothing to do with you! The b*stard who spread the rumor is a dog!”

Snap! Suddenly, a pencil snapped in his hands while their eyes meet. The surrounding seemed to have frozen.

A few moments passed…

“Grrr woof!” Lei Xiao barked…

Heavenly emperors reigned supreme in the cultivation world but there were still existences beyond the power of heavenly emperors. They were termed as sages as they had mastered the laws of mortal world.

The prince of Zhan dynasty had once reached that epitome of cultivation world. At the mere age of thirty, he had reached the heavenly emperor realm. Then he attained that legendary realm before turning fifty. Thus, he was hailed as an unprecedented genius never before seen in this world.

When he was basking in the glory of his achievement, fate played a cruel joke on him. He got stabbed by his fiancée in his marriage day. Powerful enemies appeared out of now here and Zhan dynasty got attacked from every direction.

His father got killed Infront of him and many of his relatives perished along with him. He wanted to charge towards the battle field but the injury given by his fiancée proved fatal to him. He perished despite his unwillingness.

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When he opened his eyes he was already a seventeen year young man who shared the same name with his previous life. With his previous memory as a sage and the inheritance of Evil emperor as guide, he aimed to reach the top again.

Since then the most cursed art of wife stealing reappeared again and an unprecedented genius appeared in the path of dual cultivation.

Igor had asked him to die for the world. She would ask him to die for her. Problem was, he didn't really like dying, not for a second time, at least.

war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”